


never stop remembering him

by thishasbeencary



Series: tumblr ask prompts [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 13:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thishasbeencary/pseuds/thishasbeencary
Summary: “The flight from Sheremetyevo Airport in Moscow to Fukoka has gone down,” The loudspeaker was saying, and Viktor wished the ringing would return. “We have no word yet on the passengers or crew, but it is reported that an engine went out and couldn’t be recovered, and the plane crash landed. As we get more information on the flight, it will be reported. For now – “ They began to talk about other delays, but Viktor didn’t bother to listen, his heart feeling numb. He just had to remember to breathe.





	never stop remembering him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilyemrys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyemrys/gifts).



> last night on tumblr, i was exchanging angsty things and said "what if yuuri died on the way back from rostelecom" and then was like "oh god i have to write that"
> 
> i'm on tumblr at [yoyoplisetsky](https://yoyoplisetsky.tumblr.com/). feel free to send me prompts/befriend me/etc. 
> 
> this was originally posted [here](https://yoyoplisetsky.tumblr.com/post/162523007372/hey-cary-cary-fic-me-with-yuuri-getting-in-a) on tumblr.

Viktor was sitting in the airport with Makkachin, because he’d wanted to be there early to make sure he was right on time for Yuuri, when the notification lit up his phone and he looked down. His ears began to ring and he felt faint as the phone slipped out of his hand. The shattering noise of it hitting the ground was sharp and caused him to let out a pained sob. It had to be lying, the phone had to be wrong. He couldn't get his hands to stop shaking long enough to pick it back up, to look again.

If he looked again, it might be true.

He didn’t know how long he sat without thought, without breathing, before he felt Makkachin pawing at his leg and he looked down at his dog, who was looking up at him. Viktor took in a few deep breaths, sinking down to tangle his fingers into her fur, calming himself down before he could even think about picking up his phone.

The screen was shattered, but still had visibility. Cracks scattered across the surface, distorting the text, but not making it invisible. He was about to read it again when his phone lit up with a phone call – from the Katsuki house, Mari probably. He’d gotten along well with all of the Katsukis, but Mari spoke the best English, and so seemed most likely to be calling him.

He answered with shaky fingers, unable to speak. “Have you heard anything yet, Vicchan? Dad’s game was interrupted with the news, they say they don’t know about survivors yet, but that it doesn’t look good and – “ She was still talking, but the ringing returned to his ears, pressing his face into Makkachin’s fur with a soft sob, pulling tight against her hair. Makkachin seemed to know what he needed, and Viktor was happy for it.

Mari seemed to notice after a minute what was happening, and quieted. After another moment, she said, “Vicchan, do you want us to come get you?”

Viktor clung to his phone, the sharp broken glass cutting into his cheek, but he could barely tell. His senses felt dulled, he couldn’t breathe properly. After another moment of silence, Viktor whispered, “Please. I – at least come stay with me? Until he gets here?”

Mari said nothing, and Viktor knew why. He knew it was because the likelihood of Yuuri making it to the airport (in one piece, _alive_ ) were slim to none, and another sob was choked out of his mouth. Her voice, one he’d never before thought of as soft and comforting, came through the speaker, “I’ll be there as soon as I can, Vicchan. Just stay with Makkachin. Get away from other people if you can. Maybe go out front? Keep breathing, Viktor.” It dawned on Viktor that this must be what she did when Yuuri had panic attacks.

 _“The flight from Sheremetyevo Airport in Moscow to Fukoka has gone down,”_ The loudspeaker was saying, and Viktor wished the ringing would return. _“We have no word yet on the passengers or crew, but it is reported that an engine went out and couldn’t be recovered, and the plane crash landed. As we get more information on the flight, it will be reported. For now – “_ They began to talk about other delays, but Viktor didn’t bother to listen, his heart feeling numb. He just had to remember to breathe.

“Vicchan? You have to get outside,” Mari repeated, clearly able to hear the loudspeaker. Maybe not the exact words, but she had to know what they were saying. What else would they be saying?

Viktor nodded numbly, not even thinking that she couldn’t hear that movement, standing up and calling Makkachin to follow him, stumbling through the airport out the door, where he took a deep gulp of air outside, sinking down onto the ground again and pulling Makkachin against him. No one gave him weird looks, if anything, it was pity.

He didn’t need _pity_. He need _Yuuri_.

Mari was talking on the phone still, but Viktor wasn’t listening any more, and eventually, he softly said, “I’m going to hang up so I can see if he calls.”

She was silent again, and Viktor hated that silence so much. “Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes, Vicchan. Stay safe.”

He hung up and looked down at the phone, but he had no notifications from Yuuri. He had no notifications from _anyone_ , a blank darkness that he didn’t like. He turned the phone on sound, as loud as he could make it, even though he usually kept it quiet so it wouldn’t disturb his thoughts. He _needed_ to know if his phone rang.

Mari got there before it could ring again, and Viktor looked up at her miserably as she sat down beside him immediately, not saying a word. She went inside off and on, listening to any new news they had, and getting him some food, trying to force him to eat it (he was glad that she knew better than to get him a pork cutlet bowl, even if that seemed like the perfect comfort food. Not when it had so much… other stuff tied to it). She seemed well enough appeased when he ate a few bites, and just sat with him, resting her head on his shoulder as they both watched his phone for notifications.

It was three hours into their silence that she looked down at her own phone tiredly. “They say they probably won’t be able to identify survivors and victims until later tomorrow, Vicchan. We should probably just go back to the onsen and wait for news. It’s no use sitting here,” She whispered, and Viktor looked down at his own phone one more time before nodding.

“As soon as we hear something…” He trailed off, not even knowing what he could say.

“Viktor, I’m not saying you have to sleep or anything, because I know you won’t. I’m saying we should go somewhere where you can be alone with Makkachin, and actually breathe. You’re too anxious here.” Mari offered a hand to help him up, and Viktor took it, thankful that Yuuri had such good people in his life that were so willing to help him. “If we hear anything, if he’s going to be here, we’ll be the first people back, Viktor. I promise.” Mari said again, and that calmed Viktor a little more as they walked back out to go back to the onsen.

He didn’t sleep that night, she was right. It was constantly looking at his phone for any indication of Yuuri being alive, being there for him. It was deleting notification after notification of worried texts from friends and other skaters, wondering if he knew anything about Yuuri that they didn’t yet. He wished he could tell them something, but he didn’t want to talk when he was on the same page as the rest of them.

He just wanted to be isolated.

Well, isolated with the Katsukis. They’d let him use Yuuri’s room, and had been giving him space when he needed it, but none of them were sleeping either. A few hours back from the airport (after he’d settled down a little more, and didn’t need silence with Makkachin to be able to even breathe), he’d slowly walked his way downstairs, sitting among them as they stared anxiously at the television, as information slowly came out about the crash.

Viktor fell asleep for a short period, his head pillowed against Mari’s shoulder, and his hands tangled in Makkachin’s fur. None of the Katsukis woke him, and he’d be angry, but he knew that they’d wake him if anything new happened. He needed to rest, deep down, he knew that, and he knew that he was safe with the Katsukis. His body clearly knew that better than him, since it knocked him out there.

When he woke up, Toshiya and Hiroko were gone from the room, and he blinked his eyes open sleepily, looking for them. “Where…?” He gestured beside them, where they’d been sitting, and Mari looked down at him again, pausing from where she’d been stroking his hair (Viktor hadn’t noticed, but he appreciated it. Mari knew how to treat someone anxious and afraid, and he was grateful to her for it).

“They went to go make some dinner. Mom likes to cook when she’s worried about things, and Dad didn’t want her to be alone. And they’re worried because I told them you didn’t eat much at the airport, Vicchan,” She explained, and Viktor felt his heart pounding a little bit (the first time he’d recognized his heart since he heard the news as anything but empty) from the love the Katsukis were showing him.

Toshiya and Hiroko came back with the food, and Viktor was not at all surprised to see that they’d also strayed from Yuuri’s favorite. He blankly stared at the food offered to him, and it really was delicious, everything that the Katsukis made was delicious, but it still made him sick to eat it. He finished the bowl only because he knew that the Katsukis were worried about him, and then stared back at the television, wrapping his arms around Makkachin and…. Waiting. Because waiting was the only thing he could do now.

The news didn’t come until nearly twenty-four hours after the crash, but Viktor was still sitting in the same spot on the floor (the Katsukis had chosen not to open for anyone but the guests already staying that day), exhausted, but still refusing to sleep. The Katsuki’s phone began to ring, and Hiroko and Toshiya immediately rushed into the kitchen, Mari following after them.

Viktor stayed still where he was, trying to listen for anything, but he just heard a string of polite Japanese, and figured it must be a customer. He held onto Makkachin, his stomach twisting in knots as he waited for them to come back out.

Mari came out alone, and Viktor looked up at her, but… the look on her face said everything.

He barely processed the television behind them, the news reporter saying, _“Figure skater Katsuki Yuuri, recently having placed as a participant in this year’s Grand Prix Final was among the victims of the wreck.”_ He was too busy getting to his feet, his whole body shaking with tears he hadn’t even noticed falling. His phone was ringing (Yurio, he could see, was the first to call him, touching, but he still couldn’t answer), but he left it on the floor as he fled to Yuuri’s room, Makkachin dashing after him.

He collapsed onto Yuuri’s bed, sobbing uncontrollably, unsure what his emotions even were, and he was just glad that Makkachin climbed up with him, whining and curling into his side.

Viktor cried himself to sleep, the emotions of the last day getting to him now that he had resolution. He woke with Makkachin still pressed up against him, but the bedside table littered with things that weren’t there before.

Someone (one of the Katsukis) had come in and brought him pain killers, a glass of water, some food he didn’t recognize, and his cellphone while he’d been asleep, and Viktor almost started crying again at how kind they were to him. Their son and brother had just died, but they had still had the kindness in their hearts to bring him what he would need after his complete breakdown.

Viktor took the painkillers before he even considered looking at his phone, picking at the food in misery.

It wasn’t just that Yuuri had died. Yuuri dying, of course, ruined Viktor. Viktor was in love with him, finally had someone important in his life, to hold onto and to take care of. But it wasn’t just that.

He was alone again.

He opened his phone, not looking at the condolence texts from his friends, and instead turning to Instagram, trying to find something else to distract him. It didn’t help. Post after post, it was all memories of Yuuri.

Yuuri and Phichit in Detroit, his cheeks flushed red with alcohol (like when they’d first met), and a grin on his face. Yuuri and Chris in Juniors, arms around each other as they held up their respective medals, clearly proud of each other. Yuuri and Yurio, even, a picture from when Yurio couldn’t have been any older than ten, his face lit up in a wide missing-toothed grin as he stood at Yuuri’s side. The official statement from the ISU, a beautiful picture of Yuuri in the middle of his quad flip, and a statement about how they’d be missing him.

Viktor started to sob again, holding his phone close to his chest, feeling the weight of so many suppressed emotions crushing him into Yuuri’s desk, unable to stop his crying. He moved long enough to remember Makkachin – he had to remember Makkachin. Mechanically, he rose to his feet, leading her outside for the bathroom, and then making sure that she got food and water, and anything else that she’d need. Once she was fine, Viktor went back up to Yuuri’s room, closing the door behind him.

He sat at Yuuri’s desk, finally picking his phone up again. He had dozens of missed texts, but he started with Yurio. He didn’t even stop to think about what time it would be in Russia right now, instead immediately dialing his number and waiting for the phone to be picked up.

“Vitya?” Yuri sounded younger than Viktor remembered him for a long time when he finally picked up, and he had to swallow to keep from crying again. “Is it true, about Yuuri?” He asked, nothing behind the words except innocent worry.

“It is,” Viktor whispered, tears falling from his eyes again. “Yura, they called the Katsukis, it’s true. He’s…” Viktor didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to, because he heard a sniffle on the other end of the phone, and he swallowed to keep from making any noise himself.

“That’s not _fair_ ,” Yuri finally spoke again, and Viktor could imagine him clenching his hands into fists, banging them on a table, punching a wall. Any of those things that Viktor’s emotions made him too weak to do. “It’s _stupid_ , he’s finally doing _well_ , and the world goes and shits on his fucking life and _kills_ him and that’s _stupid_.” Yuri was shouting, and Viktor processed it was four a.m. there, and Yuri had immediately picked up. He’d probably wake Yakov and Lily with his screaming, but Viktor wouldn’t stop him.

“I know.” It was all Viktor could think to say, because he couldn’t soothe Yuri, not when his own life had gotten so much worse with Yuuri gone from it.

“Are you coming back home?” Yuri asked, sounding, for once, like the child he was, and it tore at Viktor’s heart that he couldn’t immediately say yes.

“I don’t know yet,” He whispered, and he heard a shattered sob through the phone.

“You fucking asshole! I need you here, and you can’t even come home again!” Yuri _screamed_ into the phone before hanging up, and Viktor realized that he was sobbing again, still holding the phone to his ear as he pressed his head against Yuuri’s desk, his shoulders shaking.

“Vicchan?” Mari whispered, and Viktor lifted his heavy head to look up at her. She was standing in Yuuri’s doorway, a concerned look on her face. “Mom and Dad want to know if you need anything else. They could hear you were awake,” She said, and Viktor shook his head, looking back down at his phone, trying to decide what to do.

It was a series of pictures he finally decided to remember Yuuri by (on Instagram, it was so much more he’d remember Yuuri by in general) – a shot of him, the first time that he wore the Eros costume, awkward in it still, but smiling brightly at Viktor. A picture of him with the triplets, all three of them in his lap, reading a story together. The best shot he could find of China, where it was still unclear what had happened, but they were staring into each other’s eyes, blind to the rest of the world. A picture of them at the beach, Makkachin ahead of them as they stopped to kiss, arms around each other’s necks. Finally, he posted a picture from the banquet, of Yuuri’s arms around his neck, and more love in Viktor’s eyes that up until that moment he’d thought he’d ever be capable of.

 _The day I met him_ , the caption read, _I knew that I didn’t want to keep skating, because I wanted something new. I wanted to be happy again. Katsuki Yuuri made me happy, and without him, I don’t know how to handle myself any more. I’ve been alone for many years, so the feeling of loneliness is nothing new. No one but my coach and his ex-wife, or my fellow skaters to bring me even the slightest bit of comfort. It’s a different emptiness, being alone after Yuuri._

_Yuuri wasn’t the only one who found something new, something to hold onto. I’ve never had that before, never had someone who I wanted to keep in my life, who I wanted to take care of, and to take care of me. I’ve never had someone hold me through the nights or reassure me – only the other way around. Our relationship was far from perfect, but it let me know how much I was missing._

_And I think that Yuuri put it as adequately as he could in his press conference (as long as his family’s translations did him justice): It was love. I loved Yuuri Katsuki, and my life has changed because of him._

_I’ll hopefully have more to say later in the week, but right now I’m numb in a way I’ve never before felt or understood. I’ve never expressed my emotions, because it’s better not to, with the media presence that I’ve had._

_I’ve been Viktor Nikiforov – an untouchable playboy with the world’s cutest dog. I’ve been Viktor Nikiforov – living legend of Russia. I’ve been Viktor Nikiforov – the figure skater everyone wishes to be._

_I was Viktor Nikiforov – Katsuki Yuuri’s coach when I finally realized who I wanted to be. He was taken from us too soon._

_I wish I could have been Viktor Nikforov – Katsuki Yuuri’s everything._

_Please never stop remembering him._

Viktor closed his phone after that, even though the notifications immediately began to pour in, setting it onto Yuuri’s bed and leading Makkachin downstairs, where the Katsukis were running their business still, like nothing had happened. He walked into the kitchen, where Hiroko immediately greeted him with a wide grin and put him to work.

And that’s the way he did it for a few days, working with the Katsukis, falling into a new routine, different from anything that he’d done before. Every night, he ate dinner with them, while they tried not to mention Yuuri. He could see the pain in their eyes, but they tried not to mention it, tried to focus on the positive.

Mari helped teach him some Japanese, at least enough that he could interact with more of the locals and their customers, and Yuuko gave him a key to Ice Castle, only after he promised that he wouldn’t practice so hard that he’d get himself hurt.

Hasetsu treated him as one of their own, and no one showed him any pity, only love. He knew that they didn’t all know who he was exactly for Yuuri, but after China, Yuuri and he hadn’t tried to hide much, and so many of them had known Yuuri well enough that they’d have noticed that. They still treated him no differently than anyone else. There were no constant apologies or condolences, they tried to treat it as life as normal.

It had been a week when he approached Hiroko and Toshiya on his own, after dinner, nervous with the question that he wanted to ask.

“Vicchan! You’re down later than usual,” Hiroko said happily, her English also improving (a request from the two of them when Viktor stayed for longer than he’d expected, so that they could communicate better without Mari. They already knew a lot because of their business, but more definitely helped when Viktor came in knowing so little Japanese).

“I have a request,” Viktor said nervously, though a part of him deep down knew that he shouldn’t. He knew that the Katsukis wanted anything for him that he wanted for himself. “I… I want to stay here?” He whispered, and Hiroko lit up.

“Of course you can! You can have Yuuri’s room for as long as you need it, Vicchan, we’d never make you leave until you’re ready – “

Viktor had to cut her off, “I want to stay here forever.”

Both of Yuuri’s parents were silent before Hiroko wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight, and letting Viktor fall apart in her arms again, holding onto her. “Vicchan, you’re family now, with or without Yuuri. No one would make you leave.”

He cried in her arms as a thank you, unable to keep his emotions under control, a weird sensation for him that Hasetsu brought out. Ever since he’d come to Hasetsu, he’d been free.

“Can you make pork cutlet bowls tonight?” He whispered, a request for something that he hadn’t had since the crash. Hiroko had offered once, and Viktor had snapped at her, horrified by the fact that it brought tears to her eyes. Since then, all of the Katsukis had avoided mentioning the food to Viktor, or even really to each other. Hiroko even debated taking it off of the menu.

“Are you sure?” Hiroko was almost nervous, and Viktor felt awful that he’d inspired that in her, and he nodded his head. She hugged him tighter against him. “He loved you so much,” She whispered, and he shockingly felt himself… smile. It wasn’t the first smile since Yuuri had died, that was an irrational thought with how much love Hasetsu was giving him. But it was the firs time he realized that he might be able to do it more often again, that he wasn’t stuck in a miserable state of being alone.

He posted to Instagram that night, a picture of him with the Katsuki family having dinner – a sight that’s become normal in his life. What was abnormal was the food that they were sharing, not that anyone else would know. The caption was what would matter to the rest of the world.

_I’m returning to skating next season. It’s what he would have wanted, and what all of Hasetsu would have wanted. I’ve asked his former coach, Minako, to work with me for now, because I don’t want to leave Hasetsu. I love St. Petersburg, and the people there, but Hasetsu has treated me as one of their own, and been perfect to me after what has happened._

_I’ve been staying with the Katsukis, and they’ve accepted me as their own, as what I would have been if Yuuri was still with us. It’s been a rough few weeks, but I don’t know if I would have survived as well as I did without Hasetsu._

_So, I’m returning to skating, at least for another season. It will be a season to show my love – for Yuuri, for Hasetsu, for everything that has come before me. Skating has always been an emotional sport, but that fell away from me in recent seasons, and I think that I finally have a reason to give it what it deserves again._

_It won’t fill the loneliness I have without Yuuri – nothing will take his place. But it’s a good first step, to entering a life where hopefully things make more sense for me. I love it in Hasetsu, and I think I’ll be happy here. Good luck to all the skaters who have to go up against me again next year ;)_

_What Yuuri gave me was two things, two irreplaceable ‘l’ words that I don’t know if I’ll find again, but I always search for: Life and Love._

_#ForYuuri #IStillLoveHim #RememberHimForever_

He posted, and then he picked up his chopsticks, and dug into his pork cutlet bowl.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading. kudos/comments are always super appreciated <3


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